


Post-Traumatic Stress

by PinguMew98



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-07-26 05:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7562029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinguMew98/pseuds/PinguMew98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking at how the war broke them all but focusing on how it broke Ginny but got her to see what she had with Hermione.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been long in the making. As Hermione/Ginny was the first lesbian pairing I ever let myself have as I came to understand my own lesbian-ness, it is quite near and dear to my heart. I didn't want to fuck it up, so I never let myself really write it. I did, at one point, have the start of fic, starting after the 3rd book. I eventually stopped, then started again, and stopped. So on and so forth for a number of years. By the time I came around to writing it again, I realized that the awesome beginning I conceptualized no longer worked within the cannon. I scrapped the entire idea (well, maybe not entirely, but it definitely got shoved deep into the fic).

In Muggle literature, spring is the season of rejuvenation but for Harry Potter, it had always been summer. Summer was the transformative season where his life always altered dramatically, beginning with that letter addressed to him at the Cupboard under the Stairs and with the unveiling of its contents on July 31st, 1991. And while Harry Potter's life had always revolved around Harry Potter, he felt sure that the Wizarding World (or at least those closest to him) felt the same about summer.

On May 2nd, 1998, Harry Potter died. Who is to say how long he was dead, but it was an unequivocal fact that he was, in fact, dead. And then, as suddenly as his life had been viciously taken from him, it was restored.

The final battle had been won but the war was not quite over, in fact, it had created a new war; one fought within the breasts of every witch and wizard who had suffered, and they all had suffered terribly. Although this new and more pernicious war had yet to begin, there seemed to be an expectation that life should now be a happy ending, wrapped up with a pretty bow. Harry Potter lived, saved the Wizarding World from pure malevolence, so naturally, he gets the girl and they live happily ever after.

But there was no happily ever after for Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley. From the beginning, their relationship was doomed to fail. First off, neither would admit they suffered from what Muggles termed 'PTSD.' Hermione did a splendid job explaining the 'science' behind it, but all Harry knew was that sleeping a full eight hours was never a part of his life. Second, neither wanted to let go of what few fragments of some imagined happiness they once possessed. All the memories of Basiliks, Mirrors, Tournaments, friends who perished, were carefully repressed.

They occupied physical space but possessed a ghost-like existence in association with each other. More apt an observation would have been they were caught in the routine loop. Every morning, Harry would wake in a state. Ginny, awoken by the thrashing or yelling, would attempt to calm him. Once he finally settled, Ginny would throw on a robe and trudge downstairs to make some breakfast. Ginny was not a domestic housewife by any stretch of the imagination, but she learned quickly that she would not be able to return to sleep after one of Harry's episodes. Instead, she cooked a hearty meal for both of them, taking a few slugs of Firewhisky to help wake herself up ('Just helping myself wake up' Ginny reminded herself, not numbing herself to the pain she felt).

Ginny never knew if she was going to see Harry in the morning. Sure, he had a job at the Ministry of Magic, but they gave him free license to come and go as his moods let him; after all, he single-handedly destroyed the evil plaguing the entire Wizarding World. Days Harry trudged downstairs, they ate breakfast together. Days he remained upstairs, she just left a plate on the table. Even though she had suffered, lost family and friends, she was not alone in the Wizarding World; Ginny Weasley did not have an excuse to skip practice.


	2. Chapter 2

“Harry thrashes about at night.” Ginny said as she sipped at a glass of Firewhisky. Hermione looked at her dearest friend. “To deaden the memories he started taking…” Ginny hesitated, “…alternative…magical remedies.” 

“Are they helping?” Hermione asked, sipping her glass of Pinot Noir as she gently ran her hand absentmindedly over the scar on her forearm. Ginny didn’t know how many people realized Hermione had developed a nervous, unconscious, habit of running her hand over the emblazoned ‘MUDBLOOD’ forever seared into her skin. 

To Ginny, it was practically screaming in her face. Of everyone, only Hermione had such a blatant reminder of everything: of how, even after the war, she was not a full-blooded witch, of how she was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, of how much they had all lost. Harry had faint scarring on his hand from the year Umbridge had required him to magically cut the words ‘I will not lie’ repeatedly into his flesh. But Umbridge was constrained by the need to hold her sadism in check as a barely passible level of authority. Bellatrix meant the words to be forever marring Hermione’s flesh; for her to be reminded every day that she was less than. And without fail, seeing these scars, that word, branded on Hermione, always brought anger simmering to the surface of Ginny’s skin.

Perhaps that was a component of their relationship; Ginny hated to see Hermione hurt. There was nothing more the young red-head wanted to do was make those who hurt her best friend feel tremendous pain. Conversely, Ginny felt comfortable confiding in the older girl, which was unusual because normally she felt like she could never show weakness. For as long as she could remember, Hermione had been her confidant. 

With Harry though, while Ginny still felt the need to help protect him, it seemed almost, normal, for him to be in pain. What was more, she could not tell him things, certain topics had to be omitted from a story or simply not spoken of at all. 

“I…don’t think they are. I mean, they deaden his pain.” Ginny took another swig of Firewhisky, relishing the burn as it travel down her throat. “But he isn’t dealing with anything, he’s just covering it up. And as always, his pain is the worse. It doesn’t matter that I lost my brother. It doesn’t matter that I watched my friends die too. That I was, at one point, possessed by pure evil.”

Anger once again bubbled underneath Ginny’s skin. With no release, she began to shake. Hermione placed a comforting hand on Ginny’s knee. Hermione had learned long ago that Ginny needed physical contact to help break whatever was churning in her mind and quell that almost ubiquitous anger.

“We’ve all lost family and friends. It’s not right that Harry is ignoring what you’ve gone through, but he has the world on his shoulders.”

Ginny nodded, eyes filling with tears, whether from her righteous indignation or the memories of those lost. “Merlin knows I love that man, but there is no way we can have a relationship where it’s all about him.” She noticed Hermione smirk. “What is it ‘Mione?”

Hermione chuckled out loud, placing a hand over the words ‘MUDBLOOD’ in such a way as only the ‘M’ and ‘OOD’ poked out. “Sorry Gin. It’s just…it’s always been about Harry hasn’t it?”

Hermione shook her head. “I know you had an infatuation with him since you were about eleven but women, it’s taken you too long to pull yourself up from thinking Harry was going to change. He is my absolute best friend, but I can’t imagine anyone right for him to date, let alone get married to.”

“Look who’s talking.” Ginny’s ears were turning red, a Weasley indication that a fight was to ensue. “You’re with my twat of a brother who spent most of our Hogwarts days treating you like shit.”

Hermione had expected a violent outburst, but the words still stung once they were hurled against her. Absentmindedly, she picked at the scars, as though they were still scabs that could be ripped open.

Instantly Ginny felt remorse. She noticed the digging and anger welled up as it always did, this time, directed at herself. “Shit, ‘Mione. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“No.” Hermione said plaintively. “You absolutely meant it. The things you say when you get this angry have always been the truth.”

“It’s just. You just…deserve someone better. Someone who sees you for all you are and for all of your amazing gifts and talents. Because you’re truly the most amazing person I’ve ever known. That includes the fabled Harry Potter.”

“Perhaps Gin. But right now, he’s the only person that will take me as I am and asks nothing further.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ginny left Hermione’s flat a little deflated. The fact that the single greatest witch in a century was with her brother who never seemed to see what a gift he had, grated the red head. A smattering of angry mumbling erupted when she slipped off the last step of the stairs. Quickly grabbing the railing, she steadied herself. Ok, so maybe she had had one Firewhiskys too many, but her best friend was knocking boots with her brother and her best friend was a shitty boyfriend, fiancée, ‘fuck…which one was it?’ She didn’t know what she had been expecting though. Certainly not attacking Hermione for her decision to stay with Ron, considering she was still with Harry. 

“Ginerva Weasley!”

Ginny stumbled. She reached out to grasp the railing again, but only found air. Her momentum continued and she took a few steps forward, almost falling flat on her face.

“Are you out of you mind? Trying to leave in your state while I go to grab a biscuit?”

Ginny murmured that she was fine, fighting the color rising to her cheeks. 

“Right. And what kind of person would I be if I let the Harpies’ star Seeker out in this condition?”

Ginny placed her hand on Hermione’s arm to steady herself. As she placed pressure on the arm, she felt the permanently damaged skin forming the ugly words underneath. Her cheeks were the red of her hair and she didn’t know if it was from anger, embarrassment, drunkenness, or something else. Regardless, she let herself be led back into the flat and sat down onto Hermione’s large couch.

“Honestly ‘Mione, I’m fine.” Ginny protested.

Hermione just laughed lightly. “I know Gin. But I want your company for a bit longer.”

Ginny knew Hermione was just saying that so she’d be cooperative; she did just lambast the older woman for dating her brother. But she didn’t mind. She laid back on the couch and she listened to the older woman move around in the kitchen. She also heard the door open and close.

“Oi Hermione.”

This time Ginny groaned. As much as she loved her brother, she couldn’t stand the idea of him with her best friend – it just seemed wrong. The female red head decided it was better to leave the couple and gingerly sat up. Swaying back and forth, she made her way over to the fireplace.

“Hello dear, I…Ginerva! If I wouldn’t let you walk home what makes you think I’d let you take Floo Powder?”

Ginny just shrugged. “Just want to give you guys your space.”

Hermione pulled the Powder out of her hands and started leading her to the bedroom.

“No. What you’re going to do is sleep it off in my bed.”

Ginny heard her brother groan behind her, which earned him a swift rebuff from the brunette.

“Hush Ronald. Can’t you see your sister’s in a state?”

Ron made some more noises of dissatisfaction and irritation, but did not say another word.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Once Hermione managed to dispose Ginny into the bed, she made to leave. Instead, Ginny grabbed her arm.

“Seriously ‘Mione. You need to break up with my brother.”

Hermione smiled sadly down at her. “Not until you break up with Harry.”

“Deal.”

The brunette lightly detached the red head’s hand from her arm. Placing it gently on the bed, Hermione left the room, leaving Ginny with her alcohol-laden brain to discern what they had agreed upon.


	4. Chapter 4

Ginny rolled over, grabbing a fistful of sheets. Groaning into the mattress, she blearily searched for her wand. A brief moment of panic washed over her as she become cognizant that her wand was not within arm’s reach. Another second passed before she realized, she was not in her room. She heard the doorknob squeak as it turned; panic ripped through her body.

“Accio wand!” Ginny yelled. 

The wand flew into her hand and she was on her feet, wand brandished at the individual walking into the unknown room. As the door creaked open, Ginny didn’t hesitate: “Petrificus Totalus.”

Hermione paused, tray of food in her hands as the spell deflected harmlessly away from her. Calmly, she set the tray upon the cabinet and walked towards the flabbergasted red head.

“It’s ok Gin.” Hermione started, as though Ginny was a spoked horse. “You’re in my flat. You’re ok and it’s safe.”

The pounding of her blood made her head ring, obfuscating her vision and diminished her hearing. Her still booze-besoddened brain was having trouble making connections. The realization that she just slung a hex at her best friend hit her like a swift punch to the gut. Slowly she sat back onto the bed, wand dangling in her hand.

Ginny didn’t know why, but she began to cry. Crying was one of the things Ginny hated the most in life. She cried so hard that she was not cognizant of Hermione sitting beside   
her on the bed; that only came when Hermione pulled her into a hug. Stroking her hair, the older woman just whispered reassuring words. As stupid as she felt for crying and needing to be comforted, it was tremendously helpful. Whatever horrific memory that had triggered her immediate defenses had been banished by Hermione’s even voice.  
Once Ginny had cried herself out, Hermione had given her a small kiss on the top of her head. 

“I’m going to make some breakfast ok.”

Ginny watched as the brunette left the room. Rubbing her sore, puffy eyes, she pondered the evenings events: the dislike that she felt when she thought of Ron and Hermione together (there’s that nausea again), of wanting to protect the older witch, of wanting to assault anyone that did not think she was anything other than perfect. Great Merlin’s Beard, she was in love with Hermione.


	5. Chapter 5

After Hermione left the room and Ginny recognized the source of some of her crazy feelings, she calmed down. Ginny continued to sit on the bed, pondering her relationship with Hermione over the years, and wondering if she had any feelings for her. She heard her brother and Hermione talking. Talking was a relative word, they were clearly fighting. 

Running her fingers through her hair, Ginny blew out a long breath.

The fight downstairs got louder. Ginny got up and started pacing. What has been going with her? A crash punctured her thoughts. Ginny reacted; bursting out of the room and flying down the stairs. Without bothering to assess the situation, Ginny located the red-hair of her brother and tackled him to the ground, wand drawn and pressed against his neck. 

“What the fuck Gin?” Ron spat.

Ginny looked around. Hermione was just gaping at the pair of Weasleys. A pan was on the ground, but nothing else remained disturbed. Slowly Ginny removed her wand from her brother’s neck. Once the pressure let off, Ron shoved his sister off, getting to his feet.

“I…” Ginny looked around, color rose to her cheeks as her embarrassment grew. “I…heard yelling then…then a crash…”

Ron was a similar color as Ginny but with anger rather than embarrassment. “And you just assumed that I was getting violent?!”

“Ron darling,” Hermione calling Ron ‘darling’ made Ginny’s stomach turn. “Can you, give us some space?”

“You’re taking her side?!” Ron was exploding like a Howler. “She just bloody attacked me, her own brother, from behind!”

Ginny was feeling more and more foolish. 

“I’m not taking ‘her side’ Ronald. But something is wrong.”

Hermione glanced over to Ginny, worry etched across her face. Ginny shifted between her feet. What was happing to her?

“Ron we’ve talked about things, Ginny hasn’t. Let her have that.” Hermione’s vague words seemed to defuse Ron.

“You’re right. I’m sorry for yelling.” Ron said bashfully.

“No need to apologize.” Hermione patted Ron’s arm as she kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”

Ron turned to his younger sister. “Sorry I flipped out.” He hugged Ginny and headed upstairs.

“What the bloody hell happened?” Ginny asked once Ron was upstairs.

Hermione bent down and picked up the pan, placing it on the counter. She then gestured for Ginny to sit at the table. Hesitantly, Ginny sat down as Hermione sat next to her.

“Ron and I were discussing you. Ron was getting upset that you have not visited St. Mungo’s for help; especially once I told him about this morning. He backed into the counter and accidentally knocked the pan to the ground.”

The Weasley curse of the red-face returned.

“Ron was quite distressed about your copious use of alcohol to repress memories, just like Harry’s issues. He thinks Harry’s bad habits are rubbing off on you.”

Ginny went from feeling angry to ashamed. Here she was, assuming Ron had been fighting and getting violent with Hermione. Instead, he was worried about his younger sister. He was worried his best friend was hurting his younger sister.

Hermione noted this change. She placed her hand on Ginny’s arm, ‘Mudblood’ staring her in the face. “Ron loves you. He loves Harry. He sees you two hurting and he doesn’t know how to help. So he reverts to what he feels, anger. Ron has come to a position of relative calm with his demons. You have nothing to be ashamed about. We all have issues.”  
She was listening to Hermione’s words but ‘Mudblood’ kept yelling at her. Reaching out, Ginny ran her hand over the magical scars. Hermione let out a yelp as she retracted her arm.

“Sorry” Ginny said, feeling the red burn creep into her face.

Hermione took it in stride. Ginny was always impressed by the older witches’ ability to just roll along like things hadn’t happened. She just waved it away, like she was just dissipating a cloud of smoke. “Don’t worry about it Gin. Sometimes I forget it’s even there. You just startled me that’s all.”

“You do know you’re the greatest witch of this age.”

Hermione smirked. “So I’ve been told.”

Ginny grabbed Hermione’s hands. Sure Hermione, of everyone had seemed to have dealt the best, but Ginny felt compelled to reiterate. “But _you_ know that right?”  
\

**Author's Note:**

> So...let me know if you want me to keep going. I know it's short and I don't want to string you out if you will not be entertained.


End file.
